


5 Times Jay Couldn't Say I Love You and The 1 Time He Finally Did

by RottenKidNextDoor (PortalofWords)



Series: he was made of leather and gold [3]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: 5 + 1 Things, Anxiety, Carlos is patient, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, jay can't say i love you, jay-centric, kind of a timeline piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 15:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17831282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PortalofWords/pseuds/RottenKidNextDoor
Summary: Eight letters. Three words. For some reason, Jay just can't say "I love you" to the boy who needs it most.





	5 Times Jay Couldn't Say I Love You and The 1 Time He Finally Did

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this little piece! This work is dedicated to @skaifayax for recommending the song "8 letters" that inspired this ficlet. They didn't want me to gift the work to them, but I'm going to mention them here anyway because it's a great song for this pairing, and they're always so supportive of my work.
> 
>  
> 
> Just be warned: there is a non-graphic description of a panic attack, so skip if that triggers you

  
I.

 

There was sweat on his forehead and air in his lungs.

And while Jay appreciated the wonderful tourney weather, the brilliant blue sky kept distracting him. The sky had never been so clear and colorful in all his days growing up. He’d gotten used to the greyness, the clouds, the smog, the rain, but that didn’t mean he’d never considered how a nice day might look. But apparently, beautiful weather only belonged to beautiful people - or else those who considered themselves to be superior by claiming virtuosity.

“Hey, Jay?” came a voice to his left, and only then did Jay realize that he’d been so lost in his thoughts that he’d missed the final whistle to dismiss practice. He smiled automatically, relaxation returning to his limbs and nonchalance to his voice.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Dude, you were staring off for like a good minute,” Carlos laughed because, of course, it was the freckled son of Cruella who had noticed, who had cared, who was doing his best to check in on Jay without making a fuss.

“It’s all good.” Jay gave him another smile, a real one this time, and noticed how the other boy’s sweaty curls stuck to his face as he swung his helmet off his head. Such an odd detail to get fixated on, he mused, but that’s how it always went with Carlos.

“I kicked your ass out there today,” the smaller boy crowed, just like he did every day. Carlos always got happier after practice; not because he enjoyed it, but because it was over.

“Sure, de Vil.”

They strolled together lazily across the vibrant field, the sun spiking off the bleachers and warming the grass and the top of their heads. Jay leaned down and grabbed a paper cup near the cooler, filling it up and taking it like a shot to make Carlos laugh. It worked like a charm, and the other boy’s snorts warmed him up almost as much as the sunshine.

“You’re a dumbass; you know that?” Carlos laughed affectionately. “I hate you sometimes.”

“I -” the wrong word almost slipped from his mouth, somehow idling along his teeth, ready to ride out on the wrong sentence when Jay let his guard down.

_Oh, god, oh god_ , the taller boy inhaled. _I almost said it._

“What?” Carlos’ eyes searched him for a moment, seeming to soak up all the sun’s heat and glow.

“Hate you, too,” Jay finished with a smirk, elbowing his best friend’s ribs. “Don’t you forget it, de Vil.”

  
  


 

 

 

II.

 

“HEY ‘LOS?!” Jay hollered, competing with the video game sound effects that were coming from the rest of the dorm room beyond the bathroom door. “DE VIL! CARLOS!”

Suddenly, the sounds outside stopped, and the door nearly flew off its hinges. “Shit, Jay, all good?”

Jay turned, surprised at the ferocity with which the door had been pushed open. “Woah, dude, I’m fine. I just wanted to know where my toothbrush went.”

“ _Oh_!” Carlos took a breath of what looked like relief, leaning against the doorframe. “I heard you shout - thought you were hurt or something.”

There was a wild look in the smaller boy’s eyes, like the grimy streets of their past were being reflected deep within their worried depths. That’s what the people here didn’t understand. That’s what the people here never would understand. Despite the castles and golden turrets, the children - no, not children, never children - the isle-worn offspring of the dark and evil would always remember the blood-stained asphalt and crumbling shacks.

“Nah.” Jay walked over to ruffle his best friend’s curls. “I’m all good.”

“I - uh - got us new toothbrushes,” Carlos laughed sheepishly. “Sorry, I forgot to put them out. I had to finish a couple of lab reports, and then Evie texted about her new fall line and what I thought of it, and suddenly I forget to do everything else.”

Jay listened and wondered at the words that formed so nicely as they came from his best friend's mouth. Carlos had a very nice mouth, he knew. And he should acknowledge the gesture, at least: the willingness to drop all, the instant rush to make sure the odds hadn’t finally crushed him flat, to confirm that he hadn’t drowned among the nightmares.

And so, slinging an arm around Carlos’ shoulders - no longer frail and shaky as they once had been - Jay smiled. “Thanks for looking out for me, ‘Los.”

A dusting of pink tinged the other boy’s cheeks. “Well, you know, that’s my job, right? To look after you? To keep you from getting yourself killed or stabbed or expelled?”

_And I love you for it._

The words never came, couldn’t come, but Jay thought them all the same.

 

 

 

 

 

III.

 

Kissing Carlos was a whole new level of world-shattering for Jay.

His world had shattered a few times before, shifted and shook like Carlos’ beloved dog, but it was nothing compared to kissing the guy he’d fallen for. The guy that he was in love with.

And it wasn’t necessarily the kiss itself that left his knees weaker than he wanted to admit, but the aftermath. The sudden pounding of his heartbeat, the blood in his ears, the way his thoughts seemed to be put on hold. He felt naked, bare, vulnerable; if someone were to attack, he would go down without a hitch now, standing frozen on the spot as his quick and golden limbs stayed useless for the first time in a long awhile.

Auradon described “true love’s kiss” as the saving grace, the ultimate goal, the final healer, and even if Jay knew that the whole true love nonsense was just that, he couldn’t seem to stop the tremor in his hands and his heart. He had nothing of substance to compare this kiss to, only the breathless whispers of hundreds of girls whose names he’d forgotten the moment their shirts were undone, but he did know one thing: Carlos felt real. Kissing him didn’t feel like a fairytale or a dream come true or any of those magical, beautiful things the princes and princesses waited their whole lives to experience. Carlos felt real. And Jay wanted more. He wanted to feel Carlos against him, to know that - for a few moments - the boy was safe and sound and there.

_I love you._ Jay wanted to say it from the moment their lips had collided in a sloppy mess of teeth and sweat and laughter. _I love you._

  
  


 

 

IV.

 

The air was sticky and heavy with summer heat, forcing even the most energetic of students into a lethargic, foggy state simply for self-preservation. Not even the bugs flitted about; their wings weighed down by the sun that beat down relentlessly on the perfect fields and streams and castles. And, as fate would have it, the air conditioning at Auradon Prep had selected today of all days to break down, and the entire campus was left suddenly regretting the whole no-magic rule as the afternoon heat slunk inside the buildings. Inside the boy’s dormitory, Carlos lay in front of a fan, letting it blow his damp curls lazily.

“‘S hot,” he complained, fanning himself with his hand as if it would somehow help the electric one. His black and white speckled tee clung to his skin, plastered to the freckled surface like a suffocating blanket.

Jay lay beside him - not touching, it was too hot to touch - but close enough to see the beads of sweat gathered on his boyfriend’s upper lip, along with the shadow of scruff that had begun to appear lately. Jay groaned after a moment, flipping himself over to stare at the ceiling. He’d abandoned his own shirt hours ago and was secretly hoping somewhere in the back of his mind that Carlos would too.

“Hey, Jay?” Carlos turned his head slightly as if that movement alone was too much under the oppressive, muggy air.

“Mmm?”

“You’re important to me.”

It wasn’t a love confession, but the effect was the same: the pounding heart, the dry throat, the eyes that suddenly stung. And more than anything, Jay wanted to return the favor, to say the words that the boy beside him deserved to hear a thousand times and more.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

He could blame his silence on the heat, but the heavy pressure in his chest had nothing to do with the sun or the air conditioning or even the lack of it.

What made eight letters so hard to say? What made them stick in his throat until he could hardly breathe? Why couldn’t Jay just tell him already? What did he have to lose?

Other than everything.

  


 

 

 

V.

 

Jay didn't get scared.

It had been so many years since he'd felt that pounding, shivery sensation that he'd nearly forgotten what it felt like at all. At least, most of the time. But every once in a while, when the sun shone too brightly, when the smiles were too blinding, when a hundred girls touched and poked and prodded at him, he got a small reminder of the fear he'd left behind.

Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt. And the only reason he didn't just give up and stop trying to force his lungs to work like they were supposed to do was that he couldn't leave Carlos alone in this bright, shiny place. So he let the cool touch of the other boy guide him back into his body, the air back into his lungs, and when he could finally hear the painful wheezes coming from his own chest, the thoughts returned stronger, louder, harder.

_Weak. Stupid. Useless. Fragile. Submissive. Little. Broken -_

“Jay.” Carlos’ voice pushed his tunneling vision open a little wider. “Just breathe. Breathe.”

Jay wished his lungs wanted to obey Carlos as much as he did. “Trying to.”

“Good.” The other boy laid a gentle kiss to Jay’s temple. “I lov -”

“ _No_.” It came out raspy and harsh and forceful, following by a cough. But Carlos couldn't say that here, not now. Not when Jay couldn't seem to get a grip, couldn't seem to reciprocate. “Not now, please, Carlos, no. I can't.”

The freckled boy didn't pause even for a second. He kept his hands moving in circles on Jay’s shoulders and his voice steady. “Alright.”

“It's not alright.” Jay could feel the sobs threatening to crack his chest in two. “It's not alright. I can't say it. Why can't I say it?”

And the eyes that met his were full of fierce understanding. Carlos held his chin gently, lifting it. “Because it's not time yet,” he promised. “You will be able to say it. Maybe to me, maybe not to me. But you will someday.”

_I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I can’t tell you what you deserve._

 

 

 

 

  
\+ I.

 

The day he finally said it, the world froze instead of him.

“So you’re telling me you skipped class because you were doing other unspecified things?” Mal looked very skeptical, and Jay couldn't blame her. “But those things had nothing to do with graffiti or stealing food from the mess hall or jamming people’s lockers?”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you what I was really doing.”

Suddenly, Mal groaned loudly enough to scare away the birds that were hopping around on the grass a few yards away. “Carlos, right? You were doing Carlos?”

“Good guess,” Jay snorted. “And I wish. But the truth is a lot less appealing. He was tutoring me.”

“No, he wasn't.” Mal stopped walking, folding her arms. “You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not!” Jay laughed, holding up his hands defensively. “He’s been begging to help me, and you should’ve seen his face when I finally caved.”

“You’re telling me,” the purple-haired girl blinked. “That you - Jay, king of the sex-addicted jocks - ditched class to study? Even for your boyfriend, that’s a new level of fucked up. Who are you these days?”

“Oh shut up,”  Jay grinned. “I did it ‘cause I love the kid. He's hard to say no to, believe me.”

Silence descended between them, and something almost affectionate replaced Mal’s usual sarcastic tone. “Jay…”

“See,” he chuckled. “I told you that you wouldn't believe me.”

“No, not that, dumbass.” The sarcastic sneer was back. “You just said the word.”

_The word… the word…_

“Holy shit.” And suddenly, the world stopped turning. Everything - Mal, the trees swaying in the warm breeze, even the bumblebee that had been bouncing near them - paused for a second as it all clicked into place. Finally, _finally_ , he’d said the word out loud, to another person. It wasn’t caught between his teeth, banging around inside his skull, begging to be released. And then, Jay was running, running through the still, frozen world back to the one person who needed to hear the words and hadn’t yet.

“Carlos!” Jay burst into the dorm room. The shower was running in the bathroom, and he pushed open the door, nearly slipping on the tile as a cloud of steam rushed out to greet him. “Carlos!”

“Yeah?”

Jay paused for a second to gather himself, then pulled the shower curtain to the side. “Hi, ‘Los.”

“Hi there, handsome.” Carlos - who had jumped initially at the sudden intrusion - now seem unperturbed. He had been standing with his face turned into the stream of water, the droplets rolling down his face and neck and body, and now he tipped his head back with a laugh, a laugh that was becoming more frequent with every day spent away from hell, away from the furs and alcohol and bruises. “Wanna join me?”

Jay did. And he would. But he needed to say it first. “I love you.”

Carlos paused, just like Mal had, a smile growing on his face as the words sank into every inch of his consciousness. Dewy droplets had gathered on his eyelashes; streams of warm water brushed over all the scars on his body, and Jay loved every single one of them. “You said it.”

“I don’t know why it took me so long.” Jay ran a hand through his hair, agitated. Standing there, in the bathroom with his favorite person in the entire world, it all seemed so simple, so stupid. “Why couldn’t I say it?”

“Because it wasn’t time,” the freckled boy repeated, his smile still lighting up the whole room. “But just for the record, I love you, too.”

The words still sounded taboo, and for a moment, Jay expected them both to drop dead or something. His cheeks burned and his chest ached, like someone had ripped the armor embedded in his skin away, leaving him raw and weak and trembling. But nothing happened, no one attacked, no smiting forces found the chink, and before he could take another second to crawl back into the dark, caged mind he’d managed to break away from, Carlos was leaning out of the shower to kiss him.

“I love you, Carlos.”

“I know.”

 

 


End file.
